Silencio Omake Archive
by DeviantD
Summary: These are an assortment of Omake written by readers over in the SB threads. Some are posted here only due to SB guidelines.
1. Single Guardian Support Group - Canon

**Single Guardian Support Group**

Integrated in to Silencio canon - Written by Atlan

**Occurs after chapter 7.2**

Brian closed the door to his apartment, and kicked off his shoes. His jacket was carelessly thrown over the back of a seat, and with a loud sigh, he sank into the most comfortable of his Ikea chairs.  
"Shit, that was close." He sighed.

The raid on the Empire Eighty-Eight warehouse was something they'd all agreed on, and with Intel providing overwatch things had been a lot less dangerous than before. That didn't mean there hadn't been any danger. Taylor, as ridiculously bullshit as her powers sometimes were, had still gotten hurt. If that had been a tight shirt over a manly torso instead of sculpted body armor, there would have been a lot more damage than a cracked rib. Just a single moment of carelessness…  
Still, even if it had been a trap, they'd destroyed a nice amount of the Empire's weapons trade, made a fair amount of money, and the boss was likely to express his pleasure with the outcome.  
Good publicity, money, and the man who was bankrolling his attempt to gain custody of his sister should be happy. Oh, and revenge. Couldn't forget that.  
"Motherfuckers."

They'd scared Aisha so badly she'd triggered. All the money in the world didn't make that right. But it would help with getting her out from under their mom's thumb. As much as he disliked his old man, at least he'd shown some appreciation that Brian was willing to take the care for his sister upon him. Thinking of which…

With a groan he stood up, and made his way to his laptop. His own laptop, not the one he used at the Undersiders hangout. Using that one was tantamount to spilling everything you knew to Lisa. He kinda liked her, but her ability to uncover knowledge and her willingness to use said knowledge made him shudder. Case in point, Taylor. Gay or not gay, that girl's love life was starting to look like, what was it called… Tesser-something. Not important. What was important was that Lisa was meddling in said love life like it was her own, playing matchmaker with mad abandon. Between a crossdressing girl and Panacea, of all people.  
Brian could do without that kind of help. A few keystrokes later, and he was logged into his private Gmail.

3 new messages.

His Dad. Huh. The old man actually had taken the time to mail him. When was the first court session scheduled? He was really going to show up? Amazing. Brian typed out a quick response.

His lawyer. Court documents. A quick skim later Brian flagged the post. He was far too tired to actually read that with the attention it needed now, and none of it looked like it had to be done yesterday.

Momma Bear. "Hi Momma Bear." He whispered with a smile.  
They'd met online. He'd been skimming Parahumans Online when a topic about cape adoptions, child custody, and why it was a bad idea came up. It had generated an almighty flamewar before the mods cracked down on it. Infractions and bans had been handed out. Including Brian, because well, he felt kinda strong about the topic, and online was one of the few places where he didn't have to hold back a forceful opinion and mind his reputation.  
But before he got a temp ban he'd noticed Momma Bear. Excellent remarks, and apparently more than a passing knowledge about the matter. And she felt the same way he did.  
When he came back he PMed her, asking her if she would mind helping him out, because it seemed to him she might have some experience in the matter that he was now facing. Her reply had been positive.  
That was well over a year ago, and they'd gotten to know each other pretty well. After Brian had explained himself she'd slowly opened up. Apparently she was a single mom who was facing another custody battle with her ex.

Still, she found the time to talk to him, and help him out. He provided her with an outsider's perspective on her life, and a willing ear. He suspected she didn't have many of those. Slowly he got the image of a person who'd made some pretty bad mistakes, and was trying to climb out of the hole she was in. Some of those mistakes apparently on the wrong side of the law, since she didn't blink at some of the things he'd unwittingly disclosed when he was too tired to think straight.  
He'd mentally kicked himself when he'd read his reply the next morning. Dead tired and more than a little giddy from the Casino job he'd come home and had all but outright blamed his being involved in illicit activities for his lack of communications of the past few days.

Surprisingly, that had gotten her to open up more, and he found himself looking forward to her messages. Like this last one. Hidden in a rant about how her microwave had given up the ghost when she was cooking and an update on the health of her little girl were questions about Aisha's and when he was set to go to court for the first custody hearing.  
Huh. Maybe she was planning on showing up? He smiled. His mystery woman was more welcome than his dad. Nah. Probably just curious.

Still… He realized he wouldn't actually mind at all. As focussed as he'd been, and still was, on gaining custody of his sister and control of his life, he'd been incredibly high strung. Talking to Momma Bear had been welcome. Apart from all the help she'd given him, she was as much a willing ear for him as he was for her. And apparently he'd needed that as badly as her.  
Two strangers pouring their hearts out to each other. And getting to know each other. And Brian liked the person he saw in those messages.

Brian yawned mightily. Tired. Right.

He typed in a short message, with a promise to talk more tomorrow. Send. Then he logged off, shut down the laptop, and made his way to the shower.

-

Across town a laptop softly pinged.

Slender fingers played across the keyboard, and a smile illuminated a rather plain face. A reply from TDH. Short, and apologetic. Tired after work, and he promised he'd answer her more fully tomorrow.  
She giggled. Apparently he was still smarting from his mistake a few months ago. But he hadn't shut the door after that either, apparently calmed by the fact that she'd taken his revelation in stride. Well, too many mistakes on her side to hold his against him. She'd shared some. But others, more odious, she still held back.  
Certain mistakes, certain believes, were more damaging to relationships than others. She was getting close to telling him, but not yet. He was still too busy with his sister. Afterwards, maybe.  
And preferably, face to face. She'd want to meet him in person when she laid those last things at his feet. If she could. Turning something so personal around was proving harder than she'd thought. Perhaps she needed help. She wouldn't mind his help. His contact with her had at first been that of a boy out of his depth facing a serious situation, asking for help, but over the course of a year his messages to her had become more coherent, more mature. The boy had rapidly become a man.

Together with the details he'd let slip about himself she'd painted a flattering picture of him inside her head. Smart, with rare flickers of a wry sense of humor, he was serious, devoted to his sister, and not apparently afraid to get his hands dirty for her. He'd also mentioned boxing and working out, and when she'd asked what TDH stood for, he'd told her "Tall, Dark, Handsome. Pick three."  
So what if he was a few years younger. Every time she talked to him she got the feeling of talking to someone she'd known for years. He just matched well with her, even if they both still held some things close to their respective chests.

A soft burbling next to her distracted her from her ruminations. Apparently her giggles had been a bit too loud.

"Oooh, did Mommy wake you? Mommy got a message from that man she likes. Soon he's going to take care of his sister, like I'm taking care of you. And maybe," she whispered, "maybe one day mommy will bring him home. Maybe he'll be a daddy to you one day. Maybe. But first, mommy's gonna tuck you back in. You need your sleep. Let mommy wonder about the future Aster."

**Occurs during chapters 7-3 through 7-5**

Kayden cursed. The box that her new combination microwave came in was huge, and together with it's weight it had proven to be an absolute nightmare to get into the trunk of her car. Even before she'd gotten it into the trunk she was already dreading having to get the thing out and into her apartment, and that was before she'd pulled that muscle in her back. She was half thinking of just leaving the damned thing in the trunk until she could ask someone for help.

Why hadn't she accepted that man's offer to help her, back in the mall parking lot?

Oh yes.  
"I don't accept help from niggers."

For all of her cape persona talk about trying to cast off the yoke of racism she sure didn't act like it when it came to spur of the moment actions.  
She'd been struggling with the box when she'd heard him behind her.  
"Do you need any help with that miss?"

The smile she turned around with had disappeared like snow in summer when she took him in. Black. That was the first thing that came to mind. Without direct intervention from her brain her mouth had then supplied him with all the reasons he needed to slap her. For a moment she thought he would, because after the initial shock the anger radiating off him had been palpable. She'd turned pale, both at the realisation of what she'd said, and the look in his eyes.  
Then he smiled soflty at her and politely told her off.  
"Well, good luck with that then miss."

And just walked away from her, towards the mall.

She sighed, and abandoned her attempts to liberate the microwave from the trunk, slamming it shut. Aster would be getting hungry, and she really shouldn't strain her back any more. She'd ask one of her neighbors for help, later today.  
Defeated in more ways than one she walked into the apartment building.

"Black." The first thing her treacherous mind had noted.  
Not "Young". Nor "Polite", "Well-dressed", "Tall" or "Athletic". And, if she had to be honest, handsome. No, the first thing she'd noticed about the polite young man trying to help her was that he was black.  
Was this what ten years in the Empire had reduced her to? Someone to who racism came so easy that even a helping hand was seen as an affront, when that hand had a different skin color than hers? As she fumbled with her keys the sad realization came to her.

Yes. This was what she'd been reduced to. What she was trying to cast beside her. Which, for all the power she wielded, she apparently couldn't do. The next few hours passed in a depressed blur as she buried herself in taking care of Aster and busywork around the house.

The monitor cast a soft light on her face as she raised her hands to the keyboard, and then dropped them in her lap again.  
"Who else are you going to talk to?" She asked herself bitterly. It wasn't like any of her friends would be helpful. After all, most were still firmly in the grasp of the Empire. Of Max. It struck her, not for the first time, that her choise of friends probably hadn't been the best either. It certainly wasn't helping her in getting away from being, not to put too fine a point on it, horribly racist.  
Her slender fingers started playing over the keyboard.

-

Brian sat down at his laptop.  
Damnit. He really wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, but maybe talking to Momma Bear would help him get rid of his anger. A few rounds of boxing at the gym hadn't helped much.  
And the day had started out so well.

After his morning shower and breakfast he'd booted up his laptop, and had read his lawyer's message, and all accompanying papers. As it turned out most of that was just checking old information, and going over some of the particulars that were likely to come up during the first hearing.  
From the look of it having his father present and voicing his support would make the proceedings much more likely to go in his favor. Not really amazing when you thought of it, but things had been bad enough between him and his old man that if Momma B hadn't mentioned it to him, he never would have thought of asking his father's help.  
And he almost hadn't. He'd taken a lot of convincing before he was able to set his pride aside. One more thing in all the help she'd given him, and as it was turning out, perhaps the most valuable of all her advise.

When he returned this afternoon, he'd have to thank her. But checking the documents had taken longer than he'd thought, and there were still more appliances and furniture to be bought (Thank you Kaiser, your money was going to furnishing a black girl's bedroom!), and he had to visit the gym too. All the shenenigans of late meant he was starting to run behind in his boxing training.

The drive to the mall was uneventful, although a section of road had been closed off, and he had to make a detour. Heh. That was where they'd hit the Empire Eighty-Eight warehouse. Apparently the PRT was sweeping the scene. He wondered what they would make of the weapons Taylor had sawn in half. With a mimed Swiss-army chainsaw. That girl was a menace and a half. Thankfully she was on his team. Waiting for the lights he wondered what she'd come up with next, an invisible clown car?

After parking the car he started walking towards the mall. About halfway there he noticed a small and slender brunette in a pencil skirt struggling to get a rather heavy looking box into the back of a tiny Volkswagen.

Oh heck, that was looking like an accident waiting to happen. Wasn't there anyone from the mall to help? Apparently not.

Unnoticed he walked up to her.  
"Do you need any help with that miss?"

A rather mousy face that had been lit up with a grateful smile turned towards him. Hazelnut eyes and a wide mouth, she looked to be thirty-ish, and quite pretty. Then her look turned ugly.  
"I don't accept help from niggers."

The shock couldn't have been bigger if Aisha had dumped ice water down his back. For a moment his mind blanked, and then a wave of fury washed over him.  
The bastards were everywhere. For all her nice looks, this bitch would probably have cheered on the skinheads that had been looking to beat Aisha to a pulp a few days ago. It took all of his willpower not to do something he'd regret.  
Because although it was oh so tempting, with the custody hearings coming up, his brain informed his fury, it would be absolutely monumentally stupid to start a fight with a woman who couldn't weigh half of what he did.

Instead he watched her face turn ashen from the realisation of what she'd just said. Then he smiled at her, as politely as he could.  
"Well, good luck with that then miss."

And walked away. To hell with her. With any luck, she'd throw her back.

The rest of the day had been productive, but the meeting had left ashes in his mouth, and wouldn't leave his mind.

As he opened up Gmail a new message from Momma Bear was waiting for him. He frowned. Had something happened? Anxiously he opened the message.

"Dear Tall, Dark, and Handsome,

Have you ever looked into the mirror, and decided that you didn't much like the person you saw? Well, today I did. I saw a woman with my face, but I didn't much like what I saw at all. It was an ugly face.

We've shared secrets before, but others we've kept to ourselves. Some of mine I wanted to lay at your feet if we'd ever meet in person.

"Look at this," I was going to say. "This was me before you met me. I'm better than that now."

But today I had an epiphany.

I had it after meeting a helpful young man at the mall. I'd gone to buy a new microwave oven, since, as I'd told you, my old one had broken down.  
In a fit of insanity I bought the biggest combination microwave over that I could find.  
It wasn't until I got to my car that the realisation struck that I'd have to fit the box in my VW Rabbit. With no attendants from the mall nearby, that proved to be a herculean task.

Fortunately a helpful young man came by and offered help. A helpful young black man"

Brian blinked. No. No way. No goddamn way. He wasn't reading this.

"And like the biggest fool I could be I forgot everything that I'd been trying to do, forgot that better person that I was trying to be, called him a nigger, and insulted him right down to the bone.

Because you see, TDH, one of my biggest secrets and shames, is that for ten years, I was a member of the Empire Eighty-eight. A card carrying neo-nazi."

He WAS reading this. Goddamnit. MotherFUCKER. He'd wanted to meet her for so long, and he had. The universe, apparently, had found a novel way to shit on him. He debated closing the message, and purging her from his life. Just for a moment.

"A proud Aryan" she continued, "And a fool. Because as I went up in that life, the realisation struck that it was all a lie. It has nothing to do with race or creed, or protecting the white man from the black. That's for the masses. It's all about control.  
And I was hurting others just to propagate that control. The fact that they had a different skin color just made it easy. They weren't like me, after all.  
After nearly ten years, I had enough. From the Empire, from the control, and from my husband, who had introduced me to everything in the first place. I took the only good thing he'd given me with me, although I had to fight him over her.  
And so I left, with Aster in my arms, and vowed to be a better person from then on.

A little while later you found me. One of the few friends I've made since I left my old ones behind. Most of them, at any rate. Not leaving them all behind might have been another mistake.

But I spoke of epiphanies.

Mine was that I'd failed. I'm not better than I was. For all my fancy words, for all the careful writing I did with you, for all that I've tried to be a better person the last two years, I've failed. I'm still an incredibly racist neo-nazi deep inside. Inside, where it counts. I'd plated it over with pretense and soft words, but all it took was being surprised by one young man, and it all spilled out again.  
Apparently ten years of venom in your soul isn't so easily washed out.

And I have no ideas left on how to change now. Nowhere left to go, not on my own.

I never thought I'd say this, proud as I am. But I can really use some help.

Help?

Kayden Russel."

**Occurs just prior to chapter 8-1**

"You want me to what?" The request was so ridiculous that for a moment Alec forgot his cool demeanour.

Brian sighed. "Wingman. I want you to be my wingman. Or, if you're more comfortable with it, a lookout."

"Your wingman slash lookout… While you're meeting a hot MILF."

Brian could hear the smug smile Alec was now sporting. This had been a bad idea. But it was too late to back out now.

"Yes. Because you're the one with the least flashy power that is still useful when things go pear shaped, and you're ruthless enough to use it to fuck up someone's shit when you have to."

"Whoa, bossman. Assuming I do this, what am I looking out for? A league of evil ex-boyfriends?"

"No, nothing so innocent," Brian grimaced. This was going to hurt. "you're looking out for skinheads."

Alec blinked, and Brian could almost see the gears turning in his head.

"You… You're meeting with a nazi. You've bagged a nazi MILF...Oh, THIS I have to see. I'm your man Brian!"

That… Was suspiciously easy.  
"Just like that?"

"Oh yeah, just like that. You and a nazi chick. Think of all the jokes I can get out of this." That was more like the Alec he knew. "And I get the chance to put one over Lisa. She's been taking way too much of my money lately, but I'll bet she doesn't know a damn thing about this." Ah. Right. "Does explain why you friendzoned Taylor so fast. You had a nazi MILF waiting for you in the wings. Why go for the skinny chick when you can have hatesex, eh?" Definatively the Alec he knew.

"Damnit Alec, we've mostly talked over the internet. She's been helping me out with Aisha's custody battle."

"Uh-huh, sure, youbetcha. Real paragon of the community. When we leaving?"

-

Kayden shivered. She should have paid more attention to the weather forecast, but really, she'd remembered that there wouldn't be any rain the coming days, and that had been good enough. Except that with the sun going down and the wind picking up, it was colder on the boardwalk than she'd expected. The jacket of her suit and the pink shirt she wore underneath didn't stop the wind at least she was wearing pants today, and not a skirt.

But the weather hadn't been on her mind. When she hadn't received a reply that evening, she hadn't been too worried. When she hadn't received a reply the following morning, she'd started feeling queasy. Had she misjudged him? Had she destroyed one of the few friendships she had left with her admissions? The thought alone was almost too much to bear.

When his reply finally came, at just past noon, she was so tense she had to force herself to open it. What f it was a rejection, what if… Only one way to find out. She opened the message.

"Hello Kayden,

Your confessions hit me hard. For personal reasons I have little love for members of the Empire Eighty-eight.

However, I recognize that you're at least willing to change, and I cannot in all honesty simply cut off the person who stood by me with so much good advise either.

But these are not things we should slowly hash out by email.

I really think we should meet, and preferrably as soon as possible. Are you free tonight?

Brian Laborn"

She blinked at that. On the one hand, she'd offended him. On the other, he was still willing to meet her. And apparently had picked up on her distress. She closed her eyes, sighed, and said a quick prayer.  
"Oh Lord, please guide me in this. Don't let me fail now."  
Then her fingers flew over the keyboard. He must still have been at the computer, because within minutes she had an answer. Italian? A little hole-in-the-wall place just off the boardwalk he knew where they could eat and talk in privacy? Yes please. How would she recognise him? Tall, dark, handsome. She groaned at that. Black leather jacket, white cashmere scarf. Right. What should she wear? Cream business suit, pink shirt. There. Done.  
WAIT! Aster! Was Theo still at home?  
"Theo!" She called out, "Are you there?"

She heard someone stumbling about, and after a few seconds the door opened and Theo's pudgy face appeared around the doorframe.  
"I'm here Kayden, what's the problem?"

"I… I need to meet someone tonight. Someone I've helped before, and now he wants to meet in person. Can you take care of your sister tonight?"

"Is this Empire business?" He asked. "Because if it is, then, you know, I'd rather not be part of it."

Kayden smiled. "No. No, it isn't. Not this. This is about as far removed from Empire business as I've gotten in a long time."

Eyebrows raised. "Really? Oh. Well. Err… I hadn't actually planned anything except some online gaming. Yeah, I can take care of Aster for tonight."

And thus she found herself at the boardwalk, just past seven. Now where was he? She caught a glimpse of a tall person wearing a black jacket, with a flash of white over it. There!

Then he came into view. No. No. Not him. Please dear God, no. This couldn't be happening. The young man from the parking lot, wearing a black leather coat and a white scarf. And he was walking her way. Bitter tears filled her eyes, and she turned away quickly, hoping to make her escape before he saw her.  
Half blinded by tears she ran, as she heard her name behind her. A heavy set man saw her dirstress and tried to stop her, but as he stepped onto the pavement he stumbled and fell. Then she was past him. Moments later, she felt a hand on her arm. "Kayden, please!"

-

"Kayden!" Damnit, she was running away. "Shit." He broke out in a jog. Nearly a foot taller and wearing comfortable shoes, he was gaining ground fast. But a crying woman on a Saturday evening running across the boardwalk, there was bound to be a white knight to help her out. A pudgy guy turned, and reached out to her, before misstepping and falling flat on his face. He'd left him behind when he broke out in a run, but that could only have been Alec. He'd have to thank him later, even if he'd blow it off.  
Then he drew near her, and grabbed her. Even as he spun her around, he called her name again. The same face from the parking lot, now scrunched up in anguish, tears running down her cheeks.  
"Please," She whispered between sobs, "I'm sorry."

Ah. Tears. That just wasn't fair. She already pushed all of his buttons, and now tears. He did the only thing he could think of, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her to him.  
"Hush Kayden, it's allright. It's going to be allright." She shuddered, before breaking out in a fresh bout of crying. "We'll work this out. Just let it go." He stroked her head as if she was a little child, and as he held her he felt her arms wrap around him. Like a drowning person who had just been thrown a lifejacket.

After a while, the sobbing subsided. "Oh god, I'm a horrible person." She whispered in a tear-filled voice.  
Brian sighed. "Well… Yes."

At that she stiffened against him. He responded by pulling her closer. "But I wouldn't be here holding you if you hadn't asked for help. I'd still be cursing that woman in the parking lot, and both of us would be lesser for it."

Slowly she relaxed, and now her body was pressing against him in ways that were becoming rather distracting. He loosened his hold on her, causing her to look up at him with red puffy eyes and streaked makeup.  
A gust of wind blew in from the sea, and she shivered in his arms. He let go of her, and took her in. Her business suit didn't look nearly thick enough for this evening, even though it looked great on her. She shivered again. Was… Was she even wearing a bra? Jezus Brian, mind, gutter much? She was making him think like Alec. He took off his scarf, and wrapped it around her.

"Come on," he said. "We're close to Giorgio's. You can get cleaned up there, and the tables in the alcoves are good for having private conversation. And as I mentioned, the food is excellent."

At Giorgio's Kayden had made a beeline for the restroom, leaving Brian to order drinks for the both of them. Idly he took out his phone, and called Alec.  
"Hi Alec, thanks for the intervention back there."  
"I have no idea what you're talking about bossman. That fatso tripped and fell on his flat face all on his own."  
"Uh-huh. Sure. Did you catch any members of the herrenrace staring at us?"  
"Nope. Just the usual peope who stare at an emotional couple. No flashes of recognition. Say, that was a smooth move with that scarf, I have to rem…"  
Brian cut him off. That was enough of that. "Yeah, not going there Alec. Thank you, and I'll see you tomorrow." Then he hung up. Alec wouldn't mind, and Kayden had just emerged from the restroom. With the streaked makeup gone and her eyes less swollen she looked a lot better than a few minutes ago.

With a wan smile she sat across from him. "I'd allways hoped that if we'd ever meet it would be for celebrations."

"Yeah. I wanted to wait until after the whole hoopla with Aisha was over before asking to meet you. You helped out so much." Brian sighed. "And then yesterday. I… I… this morning I had all these speeches I wanted to make. Now…"

"I've disappointed you." She whispered.

"Yes. No. I mean, yes, you're a racist. An admitted member of the E88. But you were also horrified by what you said to me. You had no idea it was me whom you were mailing with. If you'd apologised right there I wouldn't have believed you, no matter how pretty you are. And that came out wrong." Brian felt his face go warm.

Kayden smiled, and it lit up her face. "Maybe we should start over again? Hi. My name is Kayden Russel."

"Brian Laborn. Pleased to meet you."

They were interrupted by the waiter bringing them their drinks, and the menu. When he was gone, Kayden looked at Brian. Tall, dark, and handsome. He hadn't lied. Young and athletic too, and dedicated to his sister. She wouldn't mind… No. What the heck? Half an hour ago she was a wreck, and here she was admiring the young man that she'd insulted so badly? They both deserved better than that.  
"I guess… I should start at the beginning. I was in high school when I met Max…"

It was past midnight when he walked her back to her car, and quite cold, their breath fogging up, his scarf once again wrapped around her slender frame. He thought back to the last few hours.  
When she started talking it had been as if a floodgate had opened, a flood of words flowing out that had only been interrupted by their dinner. Neither of them had paid it the attention it deserved. Instead she talked, and he asked small questions to draw her out further.  
It was a litany of small things that had stacked until there was this huge edifice of racism and hate in her mind. He could see that simply the act of talking, of laying it bare, had helped her. With his help she'd forced herself to take an honest look at her own flaws. Of which there were obviously more than she was comfortable with. Than he was comfortable with. The amount of casual racism she displayed every now and then was stunning.  
Even so, he had the feeling she was holding things back. But then again, so was he. For one, his powers. Two, he'd have to warn her that maybe he'd been slightly… liberal with the truth regarding Aisha and her behavior. If those two ever met, he'd have to make sure that Kayden was prepared.

When they came to her little Volkswagen she turned around, and before he could respond, had thrown her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Erk. Warm. Just enough curves. _Definatively no bra._ His treacherous mind threatened to shut down.  
"Thank you Brian" She whispered while pressed to his chest. She looked up at him, hazelnut eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Just having a good friend to talk to helps. But I didn't know I had a friend that good until you decided to forgive me."

He rested his forehead against hers. "Friends sounds nice. Friends sounds great, in fact. And it was my pleasure."

Late as it was, they agreed to meet at least once a week, apart from emailing each other. Then he found himself watching her car speeding off down the road, and turned to find his own ride.

It wasn't until he was home that he realized that she still had his cashmere scarf.

When he woke up the next morning, an email from Kayden was waiting for him.

"Dear Brian,

When I got home, I realized that I had held on to the scarf that you had draped around me like a gentleman when you saw that I was cold.  
But with the weather being what it is, I would not wish to deprive you of a source of warmth. I don't want you to get a cold because of me. Please accept the attached picture as an apology, and I'll see to it that you get your scarf back ASAP.

Sincerely,

Kayden"

"Oh Kayden, keep the damn thing." Brian smiled, and opened the attached picture. "It's not like…."  
His breath left him in a huff. It was selfie of Kayden, wearing his scarf.  
Idly a part of his brain noted that Kayden apparently had a different definition of "friends" than him, and that he should probably talk to her about that. That part of his brain, however, had trouble being heard over the parts that were providing catcalls and wolf whistles. Because his cashmere scarf was the only thing Kayden was wearing in that picture.  
"Goddamn…" he whispered. "Brian, don't go for it, it is such a bad idea…"

**Occurs during ?**

Kayden Russel could be described as a lot of things. Pretty. Smart. Bigot. Fierce. Family woman. Goddamn Nazi. Lover. Drop dead sexy wearing a scarf. No one who knew her, however, would ever describe her as a morning person.

Consciousness returned to her slowly, her mind clouded by the kind of drowsiness you only get from sleeping in late after some really strenuous activities the day before. Sunlight was shining through the open windows. Instinctively she shifted away the sheets, and stretched out in the light. She closed her eyes and groaned when the felt the heat and power start suffusing her body. Slowly she started to drift away again.

Although her powers meant that she could subside on sunlight alone, both Theo and Max frequently joked that her real source of sustenance was caffeine.

Movement. On the bed. Behind her. A warm soft voice whispered.  
"I could watch you like that all day."

Kayden slurred something unintelligible. A warm muscular body pressed against her. A soft kiss on her shoulder. Somewhere in the back of her mind there was the foggy realization that this was why she was feeling so drowsy, so… languid. She twisted around, to face her lover.

-

Brian felt movement besides him, and awoke with a start. Used to sleeping alone, he was wide awake in an instant.  
Lying on his back, he slowly took stock of his environs. The sun was shining in through open windows, the rays warm on his body. Off-white ceiling, nice brass chandelier. Definatively not his own room. Soft sheets, smelling faintly of flowers. Satin sheets? More movement besides him. A groan. He slowly turned his head. Oh. OH.  
Turned away from him, sunlight playing over every amazing inch of her slender body, was Kayden. He slowly twisted his body to press against her, even as yesterday's events came rushing back. Definatively more than just friends now. He smiled, and softly whispered.  
"I could watch you like that all day."

Then he kissed her on her shoulder. She drowsily mumbled something unintelligible, and turned towards him, twisting her body right up against his. Slowly her eyes opened. Then went wide. Heh. Apparently she was remembering yesterd… Was she starting to _GLOW_?! Oh sh…

She twisted around, and snuggled right up to the man in her bed. Warm. Nice. Muscular. Max? Was… Was she back with Max? The voice didn't match. There was nothing else to be done. Slowly she opened her eyes. Black. That was the first thing that came to mind. Without direct intervention from her brain her body reacted, as her eyes widened, and adreniline suddenly spiked. Power coursed through her.

Pain. Holy shit. His head hurt. His arm hurt. Back hurt. His chest hurt. What the FUCK was going on. Where WAS he? What was that ligh… Oh. Oh SHIT. Why was Purity standing over him?! WHY WAS HE NAKED?! Brian did the only thing he could think about that might save him, and suffused the room with his darkness.

"Is this going to happen every time?"  
"I said I'm sorry! I'm really really sorry!"  
"Ow. Ow. Damnit."  
"I'm incredibly sorry! Now stop moving! I can't get the dressing on if you keep squirming."  
"Damnit Kayden, you don't have a burn the size of a dinner plate on your chest!"  
"…I'm really sorry."  
Brian sighed. "I know, I know. It's just… We're really going to have to work on those reflexes of yours. Because I'm not sure I can survive waking up next to Purity again."

Kayden pouted. It made her look ridiculously cute for a thirty one year old woman. "Well I'm not sure if my bedroom can survive me waking up next to Grue again."

"I knew we were both holding out on each other." Brian said guiltily. "Still… Of all the people in the world…"

Kayden giggled. "First I thought that you were into white-collar crime."

Brian's eyebrows raised. "Really? Because of the emails?"

"Yeah, and then later," At this she looked guilty. "later I thought that maybe you were into big heists."

Brian's left eye twitched at that. At least she seemed to realize what was wrong with that. Then he started laughing.  
"Ah. Ahaha! Haaahaha… owww… damned burns. Heh. Actually, you weren't wrong…"

Kayden looked confused. "What?"

"I slipped up just after we'd raided Lung's casino. I WAS into heists at the time…"

Theo sat in the living room, cradling Aster, when he heard the laughter from the kitchen. At least they weren't trying to kill each other any more. Then he whimpered. Did that mean they were making up? Oh gods. They'd kept him up _all night_!

Hours later, Brian gingerly made his way to the Undersider's hangout. A quick trip to the emergency room, with Kayden clucking over him like a mother hen, and he'd been told that he was lucky. If he took care of the burn, there wouldn't even be any scarring. But he should take more care with hot objects…  
The door swung open, and he stepped in.  
"Guys? Anybody there?"

Silence answered him. Oh thank god. He'd just get some of his stuff, and make his way home.  
Then the door to Lisa's room opened, and she stepped out.  
"Hi Brian, had a goo…" Her eyes went wide. Then she giggled. Loudly.

"It wasn't funny!"  
Lisa laughed uproariously.


	2. Hell on Heels

**Hell on Heels - Written by azoicennead**

Amy and I were sitting on the pier eating our ice cream cone and watching the sunset when Victoria came jogging by.

"Hey, lovebirds!" We turned to look at her. She was holding the the leashes of five dogs, who were circling around her, tails wagging. I waved my hand in greeting, mouth occupied by the cone, and Amy raised an eyebrow at her.

"What're you doing out here, Vicky?" Amy asked, which caused Victoria to grin.

"Well, you told me about how Taylor runs to stay in shape, which I thought was a pretty great idea. And the other day I ran into Hellhound walking her dogs, and offered to walk some of them for her since she had so many." I tilted my head in thought. It sounded unlikely, but Rachel did like people who cared for dogs.

"But... Don't you already have a workout plan you use?"

"Sure, but it doesn't have much endurance work or cardio."

Amy nodded slowly, still seeming confused. Victoria glanced at my feet and quirked a brow. "You're wearing heels, Taylor? Seems like that'd put a lot of strain on your feet walking around this much."

I felt my face heat and looked away. "They don't bother me."

Victoria made a face and shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat, I suppose. Well, back to running! Make sure to have her home by midnight, Taylor!" Amy's very mature response was to blow a raspberry after her sister.

That weekend, Amy and I were eating at Fugly Bob's after seeing a movie (some Earth Aleph film about dreams that didn't really make sense) when Victoria and Dean walked in. Victoria practically bounced- why was Amy coughing?- over when she noticed us.

"Hey, lovebirds!" Victoria called. Dean gave me an uncomfortable smile and wave of greeting. I, the picture of elegance with my cheeks stuffed with burger, nodded in return. "How was the movie?"

Amy wiggled her head. "It was alright. Really confusing, though; I'm not sure what happened at the end." Victoria nodded sagely.

Dean cleared his throat. "Well, Victoria and I were just about to get something to eat before she did her thing. It was nice seeing you again, Taylor." I swallowed carefully before responding. "You, too."

As he led her away, Victoria called back to me, "Cute shoes, Taylor!" I blushed and pulled my feet under my chair to hide the 3-inch heels.

Two weeks later, Amy and I were cuddling on her couch watching horror B-movies when Victoria came in through the front door.

"Hey, lovebirds!" Amy gave what was presumably a muffled greeting- though it may have been an insult- from where her face was burrowed into my shoulder.

"Hi, Victoria," I replied, blushing faintly. She gave a conspiratorial wink before holding up one of my shoes, which I'd ditched by the door.

"Are these yours?" I nodded. "They're really cute, where'd you get them? And how can you handle heels so well, you're already ridiculously tall!" I turned bright red and mumbled the store's name into Amy's hair. She rolled her eyes and gave a dramatic sigh. "We'll have to go shopping there together sometime, because I'm really jealous of your shoes."  
She then wandered upstairs, and Amy and I settled in so she could continue to hug me in fear. Really, she was terrified. It was a truly noble effort to comfort her in her fear. The fact that I could smell the strawberry shampoo she used and feel her breath on my neck weren't motivating factors at all.

I am truly a paragon of virtue.

A month later, I was using "3 month anniversary" as an excuse to drag Amy away from the hospital to have dinner together- she'd started skipping meals again, so Victoria asked me to intervene. Both of us had dressed up, and I was wearing the same dress I'd worn on what I'd discovered was our first date. But this time I was wearing 4-inch heels to go with it. Apparently this made my stride a _lot_ longer than Amy's because she kept falling behind while we walked. It was happening when I slowed down, too.

After our meal, we took a walk on the Boardwalk, got some ice cream, and I called my dad to see if I could spend the night at the Dallon's- apparently Dean had gotten some slasher films and Victoria wanted to do a movie night. Dad gave the okay, so Amy swung by my house to pick up the essentials before we went to her house. We went in, and Victoria was staring at my feet from the couch. Oh, right. Very tall heels. Dean waved in greeting with the hand not pinned by Victoria's head.

"That. Is such **bullshit**. How can you walk so easily in those?" I shrugged, feeling the blush rising on my face.

"No, seriously, I've been watching you walk, and you don't have any of the normal issues with heels. I talked to your friend Madison, and she said she hadn't heard of or seen you wearing heels before dating Ames. That's got to be the most bullshit power. Wearing heels. Such bullshit." I tilted my head in confusion, and Dean stared at his girlfriend.

"You... What? You think I'm a cape?" I heard a note of panic in my voice. She nodded, looking quite certain.

"There's no way you could just suddenly learn to walk in heels like that!" I opened my mouth to respond, then silently closed it, utterly baffled. I heard faint echoes of Lisa's laughter in my mind. Victoria stood up.

"What kind of trigger would even give you that power? Hah. I'll bet that's one of the reason Amy is so happy dating you. She must be a leg girl." I knew my face must be thoroughly red.

"I just never had any trouble with them," I protested feebly.

"You don't just magically- magically know how to walk in heels! It takes practice! I rolled my ankles so many times when I first wore them! There's no- uh, no way you just instinctively knew how to wear them! It doesn't work like that!" Victoria's blush was growing as she talked. I frowned.

"That doesn't mean I have the superpower of walking in heels, though," I pointed out.

"That's what I tho- I thought at first, too! But nothing else fits! You're not especially grace- graceful out of heels, only with them- with them on!" She was starting to stammer. I glanced at Dean, whose face was a careful mask of bemusement. I glanced at Amy's reflection in the mirror- wait, was she _waggling her eyebrows_? I whipped my head around to look at her, and she smiled innocently in response. I looked back at Victoria.

"Look, it's possible it's natural talent. Not everything is a superpower." Why was Amy _grinning_ like that! I looked back at her and glared, and she looked at me like a kicked puppy. Dammit.

"Um. This is a fascinating discussion and all, but I thought we were going to watch the movies?" Dean finally stepped in.

"Oh. Ah. Right. The movies. Let's do that." Victoria sat back down and resumed cuddling with Dean, studiously avoiding looking at Amy or I.

I blinked. Oh. So _that's_ why Amy was falling behind.

"Amy?" I whispered as the movie started.

"Hm?" She curled up in my lap like a cat. A very nice smelling cat.

"Why was Victoria blushing and stammering?"

She gave me a firm hug. "It's because you're so pretty." I noticed that she was very warm.

I blushed. Yeah, definitely why.

**Hell on Heels, p2: Vicious Blueberries**

I wriggled my head, trying to burrow deeper into my pillow. Why was it so bright? I tried to roll away from the light, but was stopped by the weight on my chest. And the drool.

_Wait, what?_

I cracked my eyes open, flinching at the light. Amy was sprawled atop me, head nestled in the crook of my neck, and apparently drooling in her sleep. Someone- Carol, probably- had draped a blanket over us. That was thoughtful.

I shifted slightly. Ugh. I slept in my dress. Damn. The wrinkles are gonna be a pain to get out. Amy hugged me and muttered something about "vicious blueberries." Alright. I'm a hero, I can find a way to get up without waking Amy.

Is someone making pancakes? They smell good. I took a deep whiff. Amy still smells like strawberries.

I turned my head to watch the stairs as I heard someone padding down. Victoria came into view, hair tousled from sleep. "G'morning, Taylor." She rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Good morning, Victoria. Mind lending a hand?" She blinked at me a few times in shock, then grinned broadly. A feeling of dread wormed its way into my stomach. I felt like a gazelle, caught in the gaze of a lion. She came over and stroked Amy's hair, gently pulling her arms loose. I managed to wriggle out from under Amy without waking her, and take the opportunity to dry the drool from my shoulder. As I reached out to dry my hand on the blanket, I noticed something.

Something _significant_.

Something _blue_.

"My hand is blue." I looked at my arm. "My arm is blue." I looked at my legs. "My legs are blue." I looked at Victoria. She had a hand stuffed in her mouth, but her shaking shoulders and the muffled sounds escaping made it obvious she was laughing at me. I gave her my best glare, but she simply laughed harder.

Our stand-off was interrupted by the sound of the blanket falling from Amy's shoulders. I looked over, and she was standing on the couch, coiled like a cat about to spring.

"Blueberry pancake, my eternal foe. Today, our battle ends! My victory is at hand!" With that rousing battlecry, she pounced.

In retrospect, it was an incredibly athletic demonstration. The form of her tackle was perfect. She caught me in the waist with her shoulder, arms wrapping around me. Her body was like a beautiful arrow, flung from the bow of the couch into my belly.

At the time, however, I was being tackled by my mostly asleep girlfriend. I remained perfectly calm as I yelped, and we tumbled across the floor. She managed to get on top of me, pinning my arms with her legs, and I squeaked as she began gnawing on my neck. At some point Victoria gave up and fell to the floor, laughing hysterically at my predicament.

"Victoria! Help!" I writhed helplessly under Amy, who simply held tight and gnawed- thankfully, not hard enough to actually hurt. Or maybe unfortunately.

Suddenly, she stopped. Amy stopped gnawing on me. Victoria kept laughing, now struggling to breath. Amy slowly sat up, the haze of sleep cleared from her eyes.

"Taylor, why are you blue?" she asked, genuine confusion in her voice. I gave her a half-hearted glare. She had the grace to blush. "Oh. Oh! I'm sorry, Taylor! I didn't know that would happen! There! I fixed it! Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" She shifted, releasing my arms and giving me a tight hug. I considered pouting for a moment, but decided to simply return the hug.

"No harm done, Amy." I softly kissed the top of her head, and she tightened her arms around me.

Someone cleared their throat above us. We slowly looked up. "Good to see you're all awake. Who wants pancakes?" Carol asked, giving Amy and I a _look_.

On the bright side, red is a natural color for humans.


End file.
